The Red Resurgence
by theblankgirl
Summary: After a particularly nasty knock to the head, Allen reverts to his previous personality as Red. This does not lead to great relations with a Black Order that is monitoring him for awakening to the Fourteenth's personality. Set between the Phantom Thief G arc and the Alma Karma arc.
1. Eye Opening

**A/N:** So here's my first fanfic. Next part will be standard for all chapters:

I do not own -man, though I do own what I've written. Lots of milder swearing. Perhaps some pairings at some point. Please review. Thank you!

* * *

The last thing he saw was a rush of cloudy gray sky.

Pain – a blossom swelling from the back of his skull, petals turning the world to black. Voices, high-pitched, shouting. The words didn't make sense to him anymore – disjointed syllables. The ground, solid underneath him, the only thing he knew. The air - so cold. Pressure on his shoulder, a hand.

Someone was talking, babbling to him, but he didn't understand.

The words didn't make sense to him anymore.

"Is he dead?"

The words, they didn't make sense. They didn't make sense. Didn't make sense. They sense. Not make. Sense. Sense.

The gray sky dimmed as Allen Walker disappeared.

* * *

_His hand, held in such a warm, warm grasp. His laughter bubbling out of his throat. He had been alone before, but now he was so happy. So happy. Buoyant. It had taken him forever to see his happiness, but finally, finally, he knew._

"_Mana!" he cried. "You walk too fast, slow down!"_

_His father hadn't been walking too fast, but all he wanted was for Mana to turn around, look at him, smile. Smile he did, look at him he did, turn around he did. "You just have to keep on walking," he said, his voice deep and warm like a cello. "Just keep walking forward, Allen."_

_He felt discomfort at the name. It wasn't his, taken from the lifeless flank of a dog six feet under. He wasn't "Allen", he wasn't anyone. He was a nameless boy with a stolen name, the name that let him be with Mana. His father, adoptive of course, was the one who took him from the loneliness, the cold and pain of trailing after the circus. He frowned. What happened after he left with Mana? He couldn't remember._

_No, he didn't want to remember. He didn't want to remember when the loneliness, the cold and the pain came back again._

_Suddenly, he tripped over a large rock protruding from the dirt path they walked on. He stopped to rub his smarting toe, then realized he wasn't holding onto Mana's hand anymore. Panicking, he looked up, but Mana wasn't there._

_He jumped up, glancing around wildly, but Mana wasn't there._

_He called out, his voice crackling in the dark like a small fire, but Mana wasn't there._

_Mana wasn't anywhere._

_He sank down in the middle of the path, curling his bony little arms about himself. He didn't know what to do; he couldn't walk any farther. He rocked slowly, sobbing softly. He was so cold now, so lonely, lonely cold._

_How much longer 'til the pain returned as well?_

* * *

When he woke, he could feel tears sliding out from the corners of his closed eyes, running down the edges of his face. He immediately loathed himself for showing any weakness at all, both the sleep and the crying. He ran a mental check. Where was he? The last thing he knew, some great force had hit him in the back of the head, throwing him many feet. What had done that? An akuma.

Akuma?

What the hell was that?

For some reason, he knew that they were the pitiful souls of the dead, brought back as weapons. His lips tightened, paling slightly. Why were there years of information more than what he should know? Six years too much. He had been, what, maybe ten or so? Why was he sixteen now?

Damn, he felt like his head was all screwed up.

The last of the memories that felt like him was after Mana died. A large, portly figure with a rictus grin large enough to swallow small children whole – the Millennium Earl, some part of him whispered – loomed over him with an offer of what he wanted most:

"Do you want me to revive Mana Walker?"

_They always say hope precedes the greatest despair,_ he reflected painfully. The weeks that followed were fuzzy in his head – everything gone, with the stench of cigarette smoke and alcohol permeating the air. That smell, whose was it? Cross Marian, exorcist. And from then on, his memories weren't his.

They were the memories of Allen Walker, not Red.

His fingers twitched, an outward sign of the confusion (and irritation at that confusion) within.

"Oi! Nurse! He moved!" a voice shouted.

"No need to yell, you loud young man! Did Bookman not teach you to be quiet when someone is sick? And may I remind you that you are still injured as well?" a matronly voice scolded.

"Yes'm," said the young male voice, subdued.

"Is Allen okay, do you think?" a higher voice asked, a young woman from the sound of it.

A cool palm pressed to his forehead. Red jerked upward into a sitting position, slapping the hand away. "Don't touch me!" he growled, opening his eyes. The light was glaring and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust.

He was in an infirmary, that much was clear from the neat lines of beds with crisp white sheets; Red didn't think that he had been in such a clean or orderly place in his life. Yet, Allen's memories made the place familiar, a place he had been many times before, staining it with the red of his blood. Around him were a middle-aged nurse – the Matron, the memories said - , a girl with hair that reached to just past her chin – Lenalee Lee - , and a young man with red hair and an eye patch covering one eye – Lavi - . They all looked taken aback, the Matron rubbing her hand.

The girl composed herself first. "Allen, are you alright?" Lenalee asked.

Red glared at her stonily. He wasn't "Allen". That was the name he had taken for Mana, and Mana sure as hell wasn't here now. An ache settled in his chest as he remembered Mana. How had it been so many years since his father died?

He didn't realize that his eyes had dropped to his lap until he looked up again to see Lenalee lean forward. "Allen?" she repeated.

Okay, this "oh, dear Allen, are you alright?" stuff was starting to get really annoying.

"…not," he muttered under his breath.

"What did you say?" asked Lavi, leaning closer.

"I'm not him," Red said more clearly. "I'm sure as hell not your Allen Walker."

It had been almost satisfying to see their faces fall.

Then the girl, Lenalee, just had to run to fetch her brother, Komui, who was the Supervisor of the European Brach of the Order. All of this information was from Allen's memories, which Red had tentatively come to accept as his. He didn't really need the memories to tell that Komui was Lenalee's brother: the familial resemblance and his protective stance near the girl told Red all he needed to know. The memories portrayed Komui as some sort of genius idiot, but now the man was all seriousness with his damn interrogation.

"You say you aren't Allen?"

"Course not. I've said this already, haven't I?" Red replied irritably. Hadn't he already heard this from his sister?

"Are you suffering any amnesia? You suffered a bad blow to the head, which could've killed you. You were out for three days as it is."

_Well, aren't you Sherlock?_ Red imagined himself saying. He would say that under normal circumstances, but at this point Komui held power while he was still bedridden. Damn. It was in his nature to not antagonize those who were stronger than him – plenty of bruises and even a couple broken bones from Cosimo had seen to that. Still, three days? Damn again. All Red said was, "I didn't forget anything."

"Alright," Komui said, adjusting his glasses. He was sweating some. "If you aren't Allen, then who are you?"

_Do they think I'm the Fourteenth? Wait…who? The Fourteenth?_ He nearly repeated the name out loud, but stopped himself. _They'll think that's my answer._ After a moment's thought, he said, "I don't have a name. But if it's a name of convenience you want, call me Red."

"Red?" Komui repeated.

"Yeah. Y'know like my ar-" Red stopped mid-word and looked at his left hand. It was no longer red, but _black_. "Ah, that'un slipped my mind," he whispered. He stared at his hand. The deformed, ugly arm that had made his parents abandon him (he supposed), the scaly appendage from which he took his name, it was _different._ Black and smooth, with the ever present cross on the back of his hand, still hard as a rock and cold as marble as well. He wiggled his fingers in a fluid waving motion and relished the ease of movement.

Red noticed that the Supervisor was watching him, so he stopped and tried to explain his name again. "Red, like -" He stopped again and brought a hand to his hair. It wasn't its previous red-brown color anymore. It was white, he remembered. He grimaced, feeling like all color had been drained from him.

"Red," he stated lamely, all the while noting the prickly feeling of four pairs of eyes on him: the Matron, Lavi (although he only showed half a pair), Lenalee, and Komui. "Hey, snag me a mirror, would'ya?"

Komui frowned. "Allen would have had a please in there somewhere," he remarked.

"And in a less obnoxious voice," Lavi interjected obnoxiously, the only one besides Komui or Red to have spoken for a while.

Red was losing patience fast. "Look, I ain't the guy! I'm first, so stop acting like I'm some damn half-assed secondary attempt at a personality! Would ya get me a mirror, or won't ya?" His voice grew rougher in his irritation, less like the "Allen" they knew. Not like they realized that the boy they knew was just a Mana-like facade, not his true self. He didn't let himself think about how much "Allen" was real, or how he, Red, was not.

Nah, he just thought, _Masks fall off, but true selves stay the same._ A heartbeat. _What does that make me to the Fourteenth though?_

While he had been thinking, Lenalee had gotten him a mirror. She handed it to him with a tentative smile on her face. _How fake._ Red responded only by nodding curtly.

He looked down into the mirror.

His reflection stared up at him, cheeks paling in shock. It was strange seeing his body this old, with scars peeking out from his neckline. Now the scars were not from Cosimo, but the akuma "Allen" had battled on a regular basis. And his hair! It was white, blindingly so, and he recalled that "Allen" had been mistaken for an old man more than once. Only his eyes were the same, the color of storm clouds gathering on the edge of the sea. And there, the pentagram scar. A curse.

Red traced the scar with one hand. _I'm sorry, Mana._

And there, looming behind him like a shadow, was the ethereal figure of the Fourteenth. It's leering grin was more than a little unsettling. _Nasty looking bastard._

After a long moment taking in his new appearance, Red silently handed the mirror back to Lenalee. He looked at Lavi, who had the air of someone who wants to ask a question. Much longer and he'd be raising his hand like a schoolboy. "What?" Red asked flatly.

"Well, Al- , um, Red," Lavi fumbled the name. After a slight frown at himself for screwing up, he went on, "You said you weren't a secondary attempt at a personality, but were the first. What did you mean by that?"

"I'm not a damn Noah, if that's what you're insinuating." Red's head began to hurt, probably due to dealing with these people. "Allen" may have trusted and liked them, but Red sure didn't. They didn't seem to trust him either, so that was fine.

Komui blinked. "So you really do remember everything?"

"Haven't I already said yes?!" Red snarled rhetorically. Ugh, his head was really beginning to throb. He squinted against the light, which seemed way too bright again. Ow, ow, ow.

The Matron seemed to notice his pain and promptly scolded Komui and Lavi for keeping an injured patient up so long. She didn't seem to have any other setting but 'scold'.

Komui got up to leave and Lenalee followed, pausing in the door way and saying, "Good night, Alle-sorry, Red." Red gave no response, instead watching as the Matron bustled about, hunting down bandages and painkillers. It was only when Lavi settled on the bed next to him that Red noticed that the older red-head (for Red still thought of himself as a red-head) had an arm in a sling.

"Oh, this?" Lavi said, following Red's gaze. "Busted it after you nearly had your skull bashed in. Damn akuma slammed me into a tree. Got it back for it though," he continued, grinning somewhat malevolently. The guy was often grinning, or smirking, or something similar, never a true smile. "I was surprised though, when you just conked out. Usually your Innocence makes you fight, even after you are unconscious. Gets you pretty roughed up."

"Great, just what I need. More scars," Red grumbled. Lavi laughed, which both annoyed…and gratified…Red, although he'd never admit it. The Matron handed him a glass of water and some pills. He inspected the pills distrustfully. "What are these?" he asked.

The Matron bristled slightly, as if questioning the pills was the same as questioning her. What a sin. "They're painkillers and a couple sleeping pills, as well as some nutritional supplements, as we haven't been able to feed you while you've been unconscious."

At least they weren't poison. Though of course, if someone tried to poison him, they wouldn't just outright tell him. Red considered not taking the pills, but he was tired, his head hurt, and the memories told him to trust the Matron. So he sighed, brought the pills to his mouth, and swallowed.

They worked insanely fast. Red soon found himself falling into darkness, into dreamlessness.

He was gone.


	2. Hello World

**A/N: **I do not own DGM, though I do own what I've written. Lots of milder swearing. Perhaps some pairings at some point. Please review. Thank you!

Noting that I previously wrote out the title of the manga, but that mysteriously changed to -man. Now I'll just use the acronym.

* * *

He was awake again and, damn, was he hungry.

Red clutched at his cavernous stomach and focused on not groaning aloud. It felt like someone had gouged a hole in his abdomen. _Why does it hurt so much?_ he wondered. True, he hadn't eaten for a couple days, but as a kid he had missed meals all the time without feeling quite so awful. The memories reminded him of the Innocence that had awakened since then. _I eat that much? _Red thought, surprised. _Amazing that there aren't famines all over the world because of me._ Immediately he winced, thinking of food.

"I need to eat something before my stomach digests itself," he muttered as he opened his eyes.

Lavi popped into view, a book in his good hand. "Yo A-, whoops, Red! You up?"

Red sat up, grimacing. "Obviously." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and contemplated standing.

"Whatcha doing?"

He glared at the red-head, getting irritated. _Low blood sugar is the only reason you want to murder him_, he thought to himself. "I'm starving and going to go eat something."

"Ah…the Matron won't like it if you leave without permission."

"She can shove her permission for all I care." Pushing up with his hands, Red stood up – and immediately stumbled. Lavi was over in an instant, extending a steadying arm, but Red swatted him away. His fingertips grazed the bed sheets as he regained his balance.

Lavi sighed and said, "Alright. Wait a sec and I'll come with."

Red watched as the older teen went to pick up the book he had dropped. "Why?" _Low blood sugar. Right._

"She'll be less likely to slaughter you once she hunts you down if I'm there, that's why," Lavi replied cheerfully, tossing the book on top of his bed.

Red shrugged. He knew that Lavi was persistent so he saw no point in arguing. Besides, he just wanted to eat something. This complacent part of himself was something he took no pride in.

The two left the infirmary, turned left, and walked down the long hall towards the cafeteria. He was struck by how few people there were. In fact, he and Lavi were the only people in the hall. "Where's everyone?" Red asked.

"Ah, well, it _is _five in the morning. Only the Science Department will be up at this point. And Jerry too, I guess."

"Then why are _you_ awake?" Red questioned suspiciously, look askance at his companion.

A single brilliant green eye drifted to the side. "I was reading. Just woke up early and decided to read."

_Damn liar. Think I can't tell? Probably means he was keeping an eye on me._ "Sure," was all Red said. He turned his eyes forward and didn't speak until they reached the cafeteria. Once he reached Jerry's window, he rapped the wall next to it.

Jerry's head popped out, looking as bizarre as ever (or so the memories would have him believe). "Hey there, Allen! What would you like this time, my dear boy?"

Red rattled off a list of foods without so much as a "would you please" or a "thank you". Jerry blinked, surprised at Allen's apparent lack of politeness, but collected himself and said, "I'll bring it out for you in a minute, sweetheart."

Red nodded and went to sit at a table as Lavi ordered. "I'm amazed," Lavi remarked when he sat down next to Red. "You didn't bite his ear off for calling you Allen."

"I don't screw with meal tickets," Red replied seriously.

Lavi looked as if he had been slapped. "That's all he is to you?! A meal ticket? I thought he was your friend!"

Red's eyes were cold, slivers of storm-gray ice. "He was _Allen's_ friend, got it? Not mine. _I_ don't need friends. As soon as I can, I'll be outta here and living on my own."

"And you think that'd make you happy?" There was a hint of desperation in Lavi's voice. Red reflected on the time when Lavi had nearly lost his heart due to Road's power and had said that he didn't have friends, that they were just ink on paper, splotches to be written over, to be forgotten, to be lost. "Allen" had fought to bring Lavi back to himself. _Maybe that's what he's thinking of._

Out loud: "What does happiness have to do with anything?"

Before Red could go on or Lavi could respond, Jerry arrived with a cart heaped with food. "Here's your meal, sweetie!" Jerry declared. "Lavi, dear, I'll have yours out in just a moment." And he was off, in a whirl of purple braids and white cloth. Red set his attention to eating, not noticing as Lavi's lips dipped down into a frown.

* * *

The two had nearly finished with their meals when the Golem Announcement System crackled to life overhead. In Komui's voice, the G.A. System boomed, "Would A-ah, Red, come to my office immediately please. Would A-ah, Red, come to my office immediately please." It repeated twice more, then shut off with a click.

"I feel sorry for anyone who was still asleep," Lavi muttered. He stood up with Red.

"He didn't call ya, y'know," Red said.

"What, think you could get rid of little old me?" Lavi asked lightly, am easy grin spreading across his face. "Nah, I'll just be there to watch how everything plays out."

"Do whatever ya want."

They walked to Komui's office in silence. Lavi kept trying to break it, making jokes about Red's attitude problems. Red scowled, a scowl which only deepened as Lavi's teasing grew progressively more annoying. And yet, the younger teen said nothing, thinking.

_The issue I gotta worry 'bout is that they probably think _I'm_ the Fourteenth. If they really think that, then I'm just about royally screwed. Heresy trials'd be the least of it; they'd probably use me as a guinea pig, then off me when I'm no longer useful. Damn. Gotta make sure they won't think that. Damn, damn, damn._

He snapped out of his thoughts as Lavi called him a beansprout. White eyebrows twitched downwards. "Like you're one t'talk!" he retorted.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You also lack in the appearance department, One Eye." At that comment, Lavi abruptly shut up. _Looks like I found the right button to push,_ Red thought. _The mute button._

At last they entered Komui's office. Both Komui and Lenalee were waiting inside, the former raising his eyebrows at the two silent teenagers. Lenalee jumped up from her place on the couch and asked them, "Are you both alright?"

Red immediately understood that Lenalee wanted "Allen" to smile and lie. _Red_, however, felt no compunction to smile or even to lie. He merely shrugged his shoulders and watched as Lavi grinned and told her that they were just a little tired, it being half past five in the morning and all.

Lenalee nodded and stepped over to Red. "Are you feeling better, Allen?" Immediately she clapped a hand to her mouth. "Sorry, R-red…"

Red's initial reaction was to snarl, "I'm not him! Are ya an absolute moron?" The words were nearly out of his mouth before he stopped himself. From the way both Komui and Lavi tensed, neither one would be happy if he chewed out Lenalee. It was best to get on somewhat better terms with them if it might aid in furthering his ultimate goal: escape. Red wanted freedom to live on his own where no one could hurt him.

Outwardly, Red heaved a sigh. He screwed his face up in what he hoped was a long-suffering way. "It's far more irritating for ya t'stumble all over yourselves, saying 'sorry, sorry, sorry' then for ya t'call me 'Allen'. So call me 'Allen Walker' if it makes ya happier."

"Good!" Komui said, speaking for the first time. He went over to where the others were standing, nimbly avoiding toppling an unsteady stack of papers on the way. "That'll help us hide you from Central."

Red's eyebrows pushed downwards, his face full of suspicion. "Why's that?" he exclaimed. He took a breath and regained his composure. Red continued without thinking (and completely against his better interests), "Don'tcha think I'm the Fourteenth?"

"Are you?" Komui asked, peering downwards through his glasses.

"Course not!" Red bristled. Lenalee took a step back from him, surprised by the sudden aggression, so uncommon in that body.

Komui clasped his hands together, a smile breaking out on his face. "I didn't think so either. Tim!" Komui called. From underneath a pile of documents, a golden ball flew up, shedding papers as it went. Red immediately recognized it. _That cigarette smoking bastard's golem!_ It zipped over and settled on his head, causing him to twitch irritably.

Komui went on obliviously, "I was reviewing Timcanpy's audiovisual files." – Red had no clue what the words meant – "Before your time with General Cross, there's only a few files, even less that include you." – _There were files of me before falling into that bastard's clutches? So, what, he stalked me?!_ – "You were quite different as a kid! From what I've seen, I've surmised that 'Red' is your original personality, and the 'Allen' we knew was a persona you created that eventually became a second personality. This second personality took control, but with that hit on your head, you shifted back to your original personality without sustaining any memory damage. That all correct?"

It took a moment for Red to catch it all up in his head, but it sounded about right to him. He was impressed, but he didn't show it. Instead, Red clapped slowly, putting on a show of sarcastic amazement. "Damn! Not bad for a sis-com." He glanced towards Lenalee and Lavi. Neither one looked at all lost. Obviously Komui had explained this to them when Red had been asleep.

Red dropped the act, serious. "Central's gonna notice, and then the gig'll be up. How were ya gonna hide anything?"

Lavi spoke up then. "Well, A-allen, hate to break the news to you, but you've never been polite to Central. Your problem is Link and your _friends_." Red glared at him. _Not missing that emphasis, ya damn Eye-patch._

Out loud, Red said, "Oh yeah, the fink. Where's he?"

"In Central until the end of the week," Komui answered. "We have a little time to think about him."

"Um," Lenalee began. "I think with our friends you should just be yourself. We can explain to them if we need to, but they might not get it. Besides, you're kind of the same person, right?"

She smiled at Red, but he was unmoved. "Uh-huh," he said noncommittally.

"Might want to scowl less though," Lavi said, leaning on him. Red shrugged him off roughly and took a step away. The golem was one thing, but he wasn't about to get all touchy-feely with these people.

"The only other person who knows of this right now is the Matron, and she's very discreet," Komui said.

"And I'll be telling Bookman, of course," Lavi interjected.

"Ah, of course. So, you three? Do you all understand?" They nodded. "Good!" Komui beamed. He turned to Red. "Welcome to the ranks then. I'd throw a welcome party for you, but I don't think people will understand. Perhaps we can have coffee later?"

Red nodded again, but thought, _I'm thinking I'm an excuse to avoid work._

He was uncomfortable as he left with the other two exorcists, Timcanpy riding on his head. Obviously these people placed trust in him – but he didn't reciprocate. He almost wished that they didn't trust him.

At least then he'd understand.


	3. Stray Dog

**A/N: **Alright, sorry! This is much later than I intended. I've been kind of sick the last week and a half (really bad headaches), as well as rehearsals that mean I don't get home until nearly 7:00. Add homework and eating dinner...well you get the idea. I'll try to be better next time, as the headaches have pretty much cleared up.

I do not own DGM, though I do own what I've written. Lots of milder swearing. Perhaps some pairings at some point. Please review. Thank you!

* * *

The three doubled back to the infirmary to get a last check up on Red's head injury. It took some ear pulling, finger wagging and lecturing before the Matron deigned to unwind the bandage and take a look. She prodded the base of his skull none too gently. After one particularly sharp jab, Red spun around and snarled, "Dammit, woman! Are you quite finished yet?"

The Matron stood up, bristling. "Yes, I am, young man. There is no need for curses," she said in icy tones. After a long-suffering sigh, she issued her proclamation: "You no longer have to wear any bandages. As long as you don't participate in any strenuous activity, you are free to leave the infirmary during the day. Make sure you return here to sleep. I'll enforce a curfew if I must. Understand?"

Red shrugged.

"Do you understand?" she repeated, her pointed nose an inch from Red's.

"Got it!" _Ya damn overbearing hag_, he added rather uncharitably. He stood, Lavi and Lenalee ushering him out and throwing out apologies over their shoulders. The girl placed a hand on Red's shoulder; he immediately shook her off in one violent move. "Get off!"

Lenalee hastily dropped her hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with it. She made no comment on his roughness, asking only, "Is that really how you're going to speak to the Matron?"

"I could've been ruder."

"Ha! No denying that, mate," Lavi exclaimed. "So you actually do know that you're being rude. Well, acknowledgement is the first step towards change." Lavi ignored Red's irked scowl and went on, drawling, "But seriously, Allen, she's probably saved you ten times over with her treatment. Why can't you at least avoid biting her ear off?"

"Saving someone doesn't mean anything," Red replied.

"How'd you figure that one?" Lavi asked.

Red shrugged for the second time in a couple of minutes, saying flippantly, "Someone'll feed ya one day then beat ya the next."

Lavi and Lenalee cried out in shock, nearly simultaneously:

"Allen! You were beaten?"

"Do you seriously think anyone here would beat you?"

"Nah." With a smile like the sharp blade of a knife as it slides home, Red said, "I reckon I'm a better fighter now." _Idiot!_ He berated himself. _Now'll they treat me like I'm made of china. Why did I say that? I don't trust them, do I? That wasn't some vestige of 'Allen'; he'd never want ta worry anyone. I can't possibly trust them. I gotta shut my fatass mouth. Aw, why the hell did I say that?!_

He was saved from dealing with whatever response they might have by a voice calling out from behind them, "Allen? Are you feeling better?"

The trio turned to see a guy in big shiny glasses and a white lab coat coming up from behind them. It took him a moment, but Red recognized him as Johnny. _Skinny as a rail and not anywhere near as strong_, Red thought. "Sure. Better as in finally conscious."

Lavi glanced at him, but Red ignored it. Johnny, however, rushed forward to hug Red, tears flooding from under his glasses. "I'm so glad you're alright!" The white haired boy's reaction was instantaneous, instinctual. He pushed Johnny away and backhanded him. Johnny fell to the floor.

"A-allen?" Johnny asked, shaken. He rubbed his shoulder where Red had hit him.

"I wouldn't say 'alright' exactly," Lavi muttered and went to help Johnny up with his good hand.

Lenalee's response was the angriest of all. She slapped Red across the face. He looked at her, reflex tears leaking out of the edges of his eyes. He brought a hand to his smarting cheek, not exactly comprehending her reaction. He hadn't liked being touched, so he had thrown off the annoying Science Department guy. It made perfect sense to him. Cause and effect. Clean and simple. "What did ya do that for?"

Her face flushed red. "What did _you_ do _that_ for?" she shrieked at him, gesturing at Johnny.

"It was legitimate self-defense! The guy was clinging onto me like a leech!" _If anyone touches me, what happens afterward is their own fault._

"A leech?" Lenalee's voice reached a nearly unbearable pitch in her outrage. "A _leech_? Johnny's your friend! You don't toss friends across rooms!"

"I toss random ass people across rooms when they grab onto me!" Red took a shuddering breath, closing his eyes. His voice pitched lower, he hissed, "And lemme get this straight: I don't have friends, don't need 'em either. I'll be outta here as soon as I can get out of this crap sack mess."

"Then what are we if not your friends, chopped liver?" Lavi interjected . He stood next to Johnny, who looked bewildered by the argument. He kept turning his head from Red, to Lenalee, to Red, to Lavi, to Lenalee, and back to Red again. "Um," Johnny began. "What's going on? Allen, it's as if you aren't you."

Lavi and Lenalee glanced at Red. The girl still looked angry and Red sensed that she wasn't done yelling at him, but she didn't say anything more. She had probably stopped only because they couldn't let on that Red wasn't 'Allen'. _Oh joy. That cat might already be outta the bag anyway._

Red looked at Johnny. What he might have first said would have been along the lines of _"Wow, a real life Sherlock Holmes."_ Lenalee would most likely kick his ass if he did say that, so Red went for a different option. "Oh, I've just been feeling a little unwell, that's all," he said, smiling. It was a conscious attempt – it was so difficult to push the edges of his lips upwards just enough, crinkle his eyes, and warm up his cheeks to create the perfect image. "Because it makes me feel a bit uncomfortable right now, I'd much appreciate it if you would avoid touching me for the time being."

Lavi had to pick up his jaw off the floor.

This demeanor, so familiar to the 'Allen' he knew, seemed to cause Johnny to forget some of his suspicions, although he still looked a little nervous. Oh, I'm sorry, didn't realize…bumbling me, you know. I can let they others know that you're up, but still not feeling well..." He paused, then rammed a palm into his forehead and babbled onward. "Ah, I forgot! I was going to get coffee for the guys! We've been up all night working on a new golem prototype and I was sent to get our coffee because our coffee maker is broken and everything. What a mess! I still need to go get it."

_You can make a golem prototype but can't fix your own damn coffee maker?_

"I'll come with you," Lenalee said, smiling. Red didn't like that smile – it was too similar to the faked expression he had just used. _A mask, huh?_ "Otherwise you might spill the coffee and Brother will come up with another crazy vitamin."

"Alright, thanks! See you, Lavi, Allen," Johnny waved and the two set off. Red could hear their voices trailing after them: "Speaking of vitamins, we've also been working on this new one. New and improved! Guaranteed to wake you right up…"

Red turned to look at Lavi, who was staring at him. Smile became scowl in the face of that stare. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," Lavi replied. "I'm just shocked that you could pull off a smile like that, much less actually pronounce 'you' correctly."

"'Course I can. But why should I? I don't exist ta please ya," Red said, emphasizing the _ta_ and _ya_.

Lavi sighed, running a hand through his hair. This irked Red. _Flaunting that he's still got red hair. Not when he's old, he won't have it anymore._ "You try to bite everyone you meet! You're just like a wounded stray dog, aren't you, lashing out at anyone and everyone."

At those words, a scene came to mind:

_A clown sat by a hole in the ground._

_His hands were dirty, brown with soil and cracked blood and grease from his dinner last night. His expression was somber, perhaps a bit morose, as he gazed downwards. A bitten lip, his wig askew. The only tear on his face was one painted red on his cheek._

_Red. _

_A dog lay the hole in the ground._

_Blood matted its fur and one of the legs was twisted the wrong way. An eye was missing, a jagged line extending backwards from the wound to slice a floppy ear in half. No movement. No breath. The remaining eye open, staring. Its ruffled clownish collar ripped and stained red._

_Red._

_The boy walked forward to peer down into the open grave. He asked only the obvious, "Is it dead?" He didn't understand why the words hurt so much. Perhaps it was the loss of warmth that made him cry then. A memory: a warm, rough tongue licking his numb, cold hand. Why was he the only one to cry?  
_

_"Is it dead?"  
_

Red could feel heat rise in his cheeks, flushing. "He's dead!" he cried, not sure which 'Allen' he was referring to.

"…better apologize to Lena – _what_?" Lavi yelped, not understanding Red's comment. "_Who's _dead?"

Red shook his head, paling once again. Shaken, he said, "N-nah, never mind."

"Wait, wait, wait, I don't get it. Allen, who did you say was dead?"

"Just drop it!" Red snarled.

"Okay, okay, dropping," Lavi said, raising his hands. "To go back to what I was saying, I think you better apologize to Lenalee."

"Apolo-no way, no way, no way." Red looked horrified. "There's no way in hell that I'm going to say sorry ta her! She slapped _me_, remember?"

"After you hit Johnny. You should probably say sorry to him too," Lavi pointed out. "Lenalee sees the Allen part of you, which I'm sure is still in there somewhere, as a part of her world. Do you really care to ruin that?"

A glare. "What makes you think that 'Allen' isn't dead?"

"I don't think that expression could have been pulled off by 'Red', even if it was faked," Lavi said with a triumphant air.

_Aw, dammit. I fooled this idiot too._ "What?! That doesn't mean-" He stopped.

_I'm guessing he won't shut up if I don't say sorry._ "Fine," Red grumbled. "I'll say sorry ta her."

"Awesome!" Lavi grinned. "She's probably at the Science Department by now."

_What, I gotta do it now?_ "Yeah, yeah, sure." Red began to walk in the direction Johnny had come from.

"Bye! Oh, and you better be sincere!" Lavi called after him.

_Aw, dammit, dammit. How did 'Allen' ever get along with these nutjobs?_


	4. Childishness

**A/N: **Not going to bother with excuses because that'll just annoy everyone if I make excuses for myself all the time. Suffice it to say that I am sorry for the horrific lateness. I re-wrote this chapter about five times, and I still am not very satisfied with it, so also sorry for semi-crappy chapter.

Thanks to **ShaeraHaek** for the link to 'Lost Fragment of Snow'. It really helped me!

I do not own DGM, though I do own what I've written. Lots of milder swearing. Perhaps some pairings at some point. Please review. Thank you!

* * *

He had probably memorized the door by this point. Heavy wood, probably oak. Tall enough for a good size man to walk through and still wear a top hat. Bar handle with overdone scalloped edging. Hinges that allowed the door to swing both ways.

This was the door Red stood in front of, trying to avoid the task at hand. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to come up with a good excuse. Because he was so occupied with his thoughts, this last fact about the door hinges did not leave an impression on him.

Of course (and he would find this irritatingly funny later), that was until it hit him in the nose. Red swallowed the cry that tried to worm its way out of his lips and cursed instead. "What half-baked idiot decided that it was a great idea ta go around slamming doors open? Damn it!" To his even greater chagrin, reflex tears began to leak from the corners of his eyes. _This place is gonna turn my inta some kinda wishy-washy mark – not something I can afford._

"And who thought that it would be a great idea to stand right behind said doors?" someone snapped back. A man in a white coat – Reever, looking as harried and tired as ever – popped his head out from behind the door. He blinked when he saw the boy in front of him. "Allen?"

_Aw, not this again. So tired of this mask idiocy. Though this guy looks even more tired – bordering on being a zombie. _Red did his best to smile, though he guessed that it looked more like a grimace than a grin. "Ah, Reever. Sorry, I haven't been feeling well and it has put me in a bit of a bad mood."

"I'll say," Reever said, scratching his head. "I'd never have thought you had such a tongue on you, though Johnny said something to that effect. Look, I gotta find that curly haired numbskull before he skips out on his work some more, but if you go in there someone can give you a bit of ice for your nose and cheek."

"Ya –y- you have ice in the Science Department even when you don't have a coffee maker?" Red asked skeptically. _Argh, dammit. That wasn't very 'Allen'-like, was it? I'm a new kinda crap when it comes ta acting right now. Gotta step up my game. I can't let myself trust this place to the extent that I have._

"Such is the wonders of the chief's experiments. Now, I really have to get a move on." Reever took off, muttering under his breath. "I swear, if he has been putting together another Komurin…"

_Komurin?_ Red thought, staring after the white flash of Reever's lab coat. _Do I even want ta know?_ He glanced at the door again. _Come on, get a move on, ya idiot. Walk forward, move your ass. Well, those aren't quite the words, but you still gotta get moving._ He pushed open the door and walked into the Science Department.

Inside was a mess of papers and books, beakers and tweezers, empty coffee mugs and broken pencils. Men in white lab coats like Reever's bustled about or sat at desks writing. Red walked up to one he thought he sort of recognized. "Could you tell me where Lenalee is?"

"Oh, Allen! You're feeling better? If you want Lenalee, I think she's back with Johnny at his desk," the man said, jerking a thumb in the general direction.

"_Allen, Allen, Allen." All these people talk about._ "Thanks," Red said, a smile coming to his lips more easily than before. He made his way towards Johnny's desk, avoiding precarious piles of different scientific instruments.

There they were. Lenalee and Johnny were talking with each other. bending over some project of Johnny's. Johnny said something and Lenalee laughed, raising a hand to cover her mouth as she did so. Johnny smiled as well.

Red stood behind them, mesmerized. Neither the exorcist nor the scientist turned to see him. _So warm. 'Allen's' world is so warm._ All Red remembered of his own world was snow falling through the frigid air: blood matting a dog's fur, red paint of a clown's make-up, the color the wagon wheel was painted with as it rolled over a swiftly cooling body, his broken fingernails, the moon, the star, the sky.

Maybe he sighed or something; it was Lenalee who started and turned around. "Allen? Why are you here?"

_Oh. Her voice is suddenly so cold._

"I wanted ta talk t'ya."

Johnny twitched slightly and Red realized that he had spoken as himself and not as 'Allen'. He hesitated and said, "Sorry, Johhny? Could you please leave us for a second?"

"Hmm? Sure, Allen. I'll see if Cash needs help with anything." Johnny got up and began to walk towards the other scientists. He stopped, looked behind him, and asked, "Are you okay?"

A short pause. "Yeah. Of course I am." Red replied hurriedly, nodding.

Once Johnny was gone, Lenalee hissed, "Well? What do you want, _Red_?" The word became an insult the way she said it. She crossed her arms.

_Gotta be sincere – but I did tell the truth – I want ta be outta here – well, if some guy is going ta jump me I am gonna push him off – I'm already sick of masks – sincerity, pah – I don't need friends – the truth is – it was a lie – I – _

Lenalee was waiting, a finger tapping the crook of her arm. He ran a hand through his hair, which jolted him into the present. "White, huh," he muttered.

"What?"

"None of – a-ah," he stopped himself. "That's not right." Red did his best to meet her icy eyes, but his gaze kept shifting down to the floor. _Ya idiot, acting like a kid again._ "I meant ta say 'sorry'."

"About what you said before?"

"Sorta."

"'_Sort of_?' What does _that_ mean?"

Red took a moment to collect his thoughts before he spoke. When he did, the words fell from his lips like water from a busted dam.

"I meant what I said, and I still mean it. I don't need friends and I can't wait until I'm outta this hell hole. Ya and all the others, yer all 'Allen's' friends, not mine. And I'm not him, no matter how much ya want me ta be. I'm sorry for that. 'Allen' is a better guy than I am – he's warm enough to run with ya and he doesn't taste like blood and cold air. It's something anybody with half a brain in his head would hate. I can see why'd ya rather have him here, but ya gotta make do with the circus freak he used ta be. I'm not as good a talker as him and I don't like ta speak pretty like all ya guys do. But I'm sick of these masks, so I gotta say what I think: I don't need friends and I ain't gonna ask for them either, nor am I gonna ask for ya to take pity or some crap like that and decide ta become friends with me. For now, ya just gotta accept that I ain't him and I gotta accept being stuck here. We just gotta live with each other until the war ends."

His eyes were shut, his head downward. It was not really an apology, but it was the most sincere thing he could manage. He could hear her footsteps, could hear her walk away. _I blew it. Dumbass! Should've just lied. Sincerity is for kids and naïve bastards who don't know any better. Yer better with yer masks, 'Allen'._

Red jumped as something cold touched his cheek. He scrambled backwards and tripped over a stack of books behind him. He landed on the ground with a thump, the books clattering on top of him and knocking the wind out of him. Red looked up with wild eyes to see Lenalee standing above him, a packet of ice in her hand. Her eyes were as wide as his own, her violet irises shining in surprise. "You okay?" she asked, reaching a hand out to help Red up.

He didn't take it, standing up and dusting himself off on his own – though he did have to gasp for breath before he could stand. Red let her apply the ice to his still smarting cheek and nose, grumbling, "I think yer damn Order is shortening my life expectancy."

Startled, she laughed. Red glanced at her. "What?"

The ice in her eyes was gone. They drooped a little at the corners and tears were running down her cheeks. "You really aren't him. He never would've said such a thing."

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? It's not as if I want ta be he-"

Lenalee cut him off. "I don't hate you. I still want the old Allen back, but I don't hate you."

"What exactly does that mean?" Red's voice was high with the familiar mixture of irritation and confusion.

"It means that I think we both have to work on this together."

"This? What the hell are ya talking about?"

"I have to learn to be a little more understanding and accepting. You have to learn to become friends with us."

"Ya gotta be kidding me. I am _not_ becoming friends with you people. Ain't no how, ain't no way."

"I'm not. Really, I'm serious." Her pale, slender-fingered hand came up to wipe away her tears.

"Ya aren't, not really." Red's voice was harsh. He didn't want to hear this. "It's a lie, and worse, it's ta yerself too. It's better ta just leave this alone."

Lenalee winced at the sharpness in his voice. "I'm not! It's true, I think we could be friends."

He was silent.

"Please, let's at least try our best," Lenalee said. She swallowed and added, "Red."


	5. A Little Lost

**A/N: **Sorry, the writing gets weird at parts. I couldn't really write it any other way. Yay, let's destroy normal formatting.

But let's talk about highlights. YES, there's Kanda (though his appearance is very short...perhaps it will be longer next time?) and a bunch of the other exorcists (including Chaoji. Ew, Chaoji).

I do not own DGM, though I do own what I've written. Lots of milder swearing. Perhaps some pairings at some point. Please review. Thank you!

* * *

"Ya really are serious?"

"You, not ya!"

It was fast approaching noon and Red could feel his head begin to ache again. "You really are serious?" he amended himself dutifully. "Look, Lenalee, I can speak the pretty just fine if I put my mind to it."

"The problem," Lenalee replied, "is habit. You keep on slipping back into your 'ta's and your 'ya's, especially if you're snarling at somebody. If you're still doing that when Link comes back from Central, then the – how did you say it?"

"The gig is up. Yeah, I know," Red grumbled. "Now, can _you_ lay off it?"

"If we work at how you speak for just a little longer, then you can get by without suspicion. See, Red?" Lenalee smiled at him.

He scratched his head, looking at her. "There's a couple things I'm not getting here. Why do ya-y-you care so much? And why are y-you calling me 'Red' and not 'Allen'?"

Lenalee held up one finger. "One answer: because I really do want to become friends with you."

"I said I didn't want ya ta take pity on me!" he snarled.

"I'm not!" she hissed back. "It's just that-"

Lenalee was interrupted by the low rumble of Red's stomach. He reddened, muttering, "The hell is with this?!" The girl giggled, a hand over her mouth. He glared at her. "What?" Red could almost see the words forming on her lips: _That was just like Allen…_

"You haven't caught up to your stomach yet, I guess. It's gotta be tough; you didn't use your Innocence as a kid, right?"

Red blinked, surprised. He face still warm, he ruffled his right hand through his hair. He didn't realize that with involuntary motions like this he didn't use his left hand, but he saw Lenalee's expression shift as she noticed. Red didn't know why her eyebrows drew together but he dropped his hand to his side in an effort to seem less strange. He said, "Yeah. What I ate this morning would've been at least two weeks'a meals when I was a kid, if they were pretty good weeks."

"Two weeks?!" Lenalee cried.

"Probably more," Red said shrugging. "Not such a big deal, is it? If y'ask me, it's crazier that ye-your 'Allen' can eat small countries outta hearth and home in the space of a couple days."

He paused. Lenalee was staring at him, hand frozen in the action of tucking her hair behind her ear. The green-black strands slipped down, covering one of those staring eyes. Red began to ask, "What's wrong?" when she shook her hair out of her face, grabbed his sleeve and said, "Let's go to lunch."

* * *

Red stood still as soon as he stepped inside the cafeteria; Lenalee took a few steps more and turned back to look at him. She was saying something but he couldn't hear her. He could barely see her lips move. There was just too much in his head. Too much. Too much.

_Too damn much…_

Every time he saw another face, 'Allen's' memories flooded him: _a man with bandages on his arms and wearing a khaki coat – a finder – a finder? – a type of Order member – investigators of Innocence – speaking of Innocence – a man with a streak of white stark in his dark hair – Krory, the vampire exorcist – he bit 'Allen' once – really? he looks so pathetic though – a young boy with a bratty look about him and a jewel stuck right smack dab in the middle of his forehead – Timothy – closest to me, eh? – just a circus brat – a large man with dark skin – Marie – he's blind but he still has a grip on everything 'round him __–_ better grip than some I could mention – a woman with bags under her eyes – she always looks so tired – always? – always – that's Miranda – she's a nice woman but always bumbling along –

Red sat down hard on the floor. His fingers found the tile floor and the coolness soothed him. He looked up with wide eyes, pale eyes. Lenalee bent over him.

"You're sweating!"

Her words floated overhead as if Red were underwater.

"What's wrong?"

Red's chest was hot and constricted, his skin cold. The world was off-balance somehow. Sick – he was and the world was. He wasn't thinking when he spoke. "How can one person know so many, no, be friends with so many people like this?"

"What do you - "

"Allen!" Lenalee was interrupted by a crush of exorcists and a couple finders. _How can so many people care? Dammit, I feel sick. I'm not gonna let myself pass out, or worse, throw up on somebody's shoes. Please, just let me get outta here. Let me go away. Please, someone, someone…Mana…_

The people and the memories and the weakness of his body and

he wanted out

he wanted away

he was cracking

he wanted to be gone

his chest hot and tight

his skin a film of ice on burning muscles

too much in his head

too much

too much

a little boy lost in a crowd of strangers

too many people

too many people

didn't know them

didn't know them

ah, little lost lonely boy who

wanted to be out

wanted to cry

so lonely, lonely

afraid

-help me-

a scream?

a breath

He opened his mouth –

_Mana…_

"Get the hell out of my way!"

Everyone whirled to see a tall figure stride forward, a grimace twisting his face. Red didn't recognize him: too many memories still to sift through and make sense of. The man looked down at Red. "So you're finally up. Took you long enough, Beansprout." And then he was off, ponytail swishing behind him.

_I'm only a beansprout compared to beanpoles like ya!_

"Ah," Lenalee said. "Kanda's in a bad mood again. He's been really impatient lately."

_Kanda? Who is…oh, 'Allen' thinks of him as an ass. Well, that ass saved mine from being mauled by that goddamn 'Allen' fan club. I feel much better now, like I've been snapped back inta myself._

"I guess," Red replied, standing up. He brushed himself off, dust falling as he did so.

Timothy darted over to Red's side with the obvious intent of latching onto Red. The older exorcist slid through the boy's grip like an eel. "Sorry," he said, a smile painted on his face. "I'm still in pain so please don't grab onto me."

Timothy blinked. "Oh, um, okay."

Miranda pushed through the crowd. "You're still not feeling well? Alle-ah-ah!" she cried as she tripped over her own feet and pitched forward. A split second decision. Red didn't want to see her nose smashed in and her face all covered in blood. He gripped her shoulder with his right hand, his left arm acting as a brace. Again, he forgot the newfound mobility of his left hand.

"Love how the people here pitch themselves all 'round this madhouse," Red muttered under his breath. "Ya'd think they believe they have wings."

He swayed, dizzy. Miranda caught his arm to steady him. "You're so pale! You should go get something to eat!"

"Well, that was the plan," Red said through a gritty smile. He gently removed his arm from her grasp.

"If you eat something, you'll feel better," she told him.

_Does this woman think she's helping?_ Red bit his tongue.

He went on to order his lunch with a fussing, chatting, laughing entourage. The noise did not bother him; instead, it was the amount of voices that spoke to him (or 'Allen', really) that was disconcerting. He still felt a little dizzy and overwhelmed and so was glad to sit down and begin eating. That was when the conversation grew really interesting.

It was Krory who brought it up. "Did you all hear the G.A. System this morning?"

"Of course," Marie said. "It was painfully loud, and really early too." He winced as he spoke, as if the echoes still resounded in his head.

"Do ya think anyone could've slept through that?" Timothy said.

_Kid talks like me,_ Red thought.

"Does anyone know who 'A-ahred' is?" Krory asked.

Red snorted. _A-ahred? That's a bit off, ain't it?_

Lavi glanced at him. He opened his mouth but it was Chaoji who spoke. "Do you know who that is?"

Red resisted the urge to either raise his eyebrow or make a biting comment. _This guy has suspicion rolling off him in waves. The hell?_ He nodded, trying to sound offhand. "Yeah, I know him. Well, I guess it's more like I knew him a long time ago. But his name's Red, not A-ahred."

Out in his peripheral vision, Red could see Lenalee bite her lip and Lavi shake his head slightly, telling him, _dangerous territory. Don't go there._

"What's he like, Allen? How'd ya meet him? Is he gonna be a new exorcist?"

Red cocked his head at Timothy, who was bouncing on the seat next to him. He was surprised by the interest in his past. Perhaps they were just interested in the idea of a new exorcist. _Besides, they only care 'bout the bright side of 'Allen Walker'._

"I don't know," he said. "But you might be seeing him around."

Red returned to eating, the rich flavors mingling until he couldn't taste anything anymore. He felt detached from the conversation, as if he was underwater and everyone else was above water. Their words rolled over him and didn't make the impact they should've made.

"Huh. I wonder what his Innocence is."

"Who brought him to the Order? Sure wasn't any of us."

"Maybe one of the Generals?"

"Wouldn't we have heard? He could've come on his own accord."

"Hey, let's all go see Komui and ask him!"

"Maybe Red will be there."

"Ah, you don't really have to do that, do you?"

"But I'm curious!"

"Red is a kind of funny name for someone."

"What, and Chaoji isn't a strange name?"

"What I mean is, it's a color, not a name. It's almost like a nickname for someone."

"So?"

"Well, it sounded like Komui was going to say someone else's name first, right? And if you ask me, the only guy who already knows this 'Red' person and whose name begins with 'A' is - "

"Hey!" Lavi interjected, interrupting Chaoji. Red jerked a little and began to follow the conversation again. "Lenalee and I have met him, but you guys might not. He's really…um, shy, and has a tendency to snap at people."

Something Lavi had said before resounded in Red's head: _You're just like a wounded stray dog, aren't you, lashing out at anyone and everyone._

"Red's really nice though," Lenalee said, picking up where Lavi left off. "He's not as sharp-edged as he might like to make you think."

"He made up with you?" Lavi asked her.

Lenalee nodded as Miranda said, "It sounds like you've known him for a long time. How long have you actually known him?"

Lenalee, Lavi, and Red all responded at once:

"A while."

"Not as long as I would've thought."

"Longer than anyone else."

The three glanced at each other as the other exorcists looked on, confused. Marie spoke first. "It might be best for us to go see Komui and see if we can meet Red anyway."

"Um, sure," Lenalee said, her eyes flicking to Red. Red, meanwhile, began to sweat. _Wait, so we're all going ta troop down ta Komui ta meet _me_? Aw, damn it all, how the hell is _this_ gonna work?_


	6. Tiresome Inquiries

**A/N: **As usual, forgive me for lateness. I've been having massive writer's block with this story (and somewhat in general) and I still am not sure where I'm going with this. Oh well.

On a more positive note, I know what I'm doing for my next chapter, and it might actually be longer! Even better, I have time this weekend, so I may get it out before AP exams (ever hopeful, right?).

I do not own DGM, though I do own what I've written. Lots of milder swearing. Perhaps some pairings at some point. Please review. Thank you!

* * *

_Snow had fallen on the ground and had since been trampled into mud. It was bitterly cold. He was bitterly cold, bitterly cold beside the grave. Only the clown sitting beside him radiated warmth. Even the clown's voice had a timbre to it that warmed him like a fire._

"_Did Cosimo beat you?"_

"_Shut up!"_

_The boy turned his head away, irritated. He did not want to hear some man who had never been anything like him attempt to sympathize with him. The clown was something of a star, unlike him, just a pathetic little boy, the circus's dangling clinker. _

"_Do you have any friends?"_

"_SHUT UP!" _

_He glared at the clown, incensed. He turned away again, staring at the grave in front of him._

"_Who cares 'bout this damn hell hole anyway? As soon as I can, I'm gonna be outta here and living on my own. I don't need friends!"_

_For the next few minutes, the clown tried to make the boy laugh, but they ended up faced away from each other. The silence stretched painfully. It was at this point that the boy's annoyed expression softened. "Hey," he said. "Why aren't you crying?"_

_The answer made no sense._

"_I'm so sad I could die. But I can't cry. Maybe my tears all dried up long ago, but I just can't cry no matter what."_

_The boy's mouth twisted down again._

"_The hell? That's so stupid."_

_And so the evening grew colder._

* * *

Somehow, even Kanda had been dragged along. He had not come willingly; he only accompanied the other exorcists to Komui's office due to Timothy's annoying persistence. Red was impressed that the boy could even pester the hell out of Kanda. Red had previously entertained the notion that Kanda could not be swayed by anything except for tears simply because he wouldn't understand how to handle any emotion but 'irritation'.

Speaking of irritation: Red was pissed that he had let himself get dragged into this mess. He had no desire to stay in the Order but now he had to come up with a plausible lie. If they knew who he was not, it would be that much harder to escape. He was not about to trust these people.

A corner of his mouth twisted down. Every single damn time he said those words in his head, he cringed. He sounded like such an asshole, even to himself. 'Allen' had trusted them – Lenalee, Lavi, Miranda, Komui, and all the rest…

Course, there were always exceptions to the rule. Red's gaze flicked to Chaoji and away again. Even 'Allen' hadn't trusted the guy. The dumbass had called 'Allen' a monster. Red wanted to laugh. A monster for risking his life to save someone, even if that someone was on the other side.

Red didn't particularly understand it himself. Honor, dignity, Messiah complex be damned; survival was and always would be the most important.

Red _was_ a circus brat, after all.

* * *

As they approached Komui's office, the exorcists could hear a muffled shout. Someone was calling for help.

Lenalee groaned. "What has my brother done now?" she muttered as she lunged forward and wrenched the door open. Inside, they saw Reever resolutely tying Komui to his chair. Lenalee's brother had a cloth gag stuffed in his mouth.

"Reever? What the heck are you doing?"

_Only Lenalee could dance around the word 'hell'._

"The chief here needs to get his act together and do his paperwork. I can't stay here to keep an eye on him; I gotta go hunt down Komurin 700 and dismantle it before he can turn it on."

"K-komurin 700?" Lavi repeated, paling considerably.

"Yeah," Reever sighed, scratching the side of his nose. "Seems like it's supposed to do his paper work for him. While I'd love the paperwork to get done, I'm not about to trust another one of his stupid robots."

Red rubbed his eyes. He was having trouble following the conversation. He wasn't exactly sure what a Komurin was supposed to be. The word reminded him of knives glinting in the darkness of a yawning mouth. It felt like loss of movement and the light being covered and his blood feeling sluggish in his veins –

He shuddered. He didn't want to relive a moment of feeling so trapped.

He _hated_ feeling trapped.

"Fine, fine. You can talk to him. Just don't untie him or he'll rescue his robot."

"Thanks, Reever."

The scientist nodded and yawned. Watching him do so, Red fought the urge to yawn as well. _Dammit, caught his yawn._ He turned as Lenalee took the gag out of her brother's mouth. There was an explosion of sound.

"Lenalee! My dear, sweet Lenalee! You have to help your brother save his precious creation! You know just how helpful Komurin will be, don't you? Lenalee – "

"BROTHER!" she shouted.

Komui's eyes opened wide and his teeth came together with a snap. She rarely shouted at him.

"Brother, we – " she indicated the other exorcists with a sweep of her graceful hands. " – have to talk."

"About what?"

"They want to know about Red."

Komui stilled, his eyes narrowing and his lips tightening. He glanced at Red, who watched him. The boy had no particular expression on his face. Komui turned back to Lenalee and said, "I thought Red was going to explain the situation to them."

"Well – " Lenalee began, not yet sure of what she was going to say.

"Evidently he decided not to," Red interrupted. He smiled helplessly, trying to emulate 'Allen'. He was getting better at this whole smile-as-a-deflection thing. "I seriously don't understand what goes through Red's head, but I think I have a pretty good guess."

A raised eyebrow.

"And what is your guess?"

"He doesn't trust you."

Komui leaned back in his chair, no longer straining at the ropes. "He doesn't trust us," he repeated. Lenalee took a small, faltering step backward and Lavi let his breath run out of his mouth.

"No." Red shrugged and fought to suppress a yawn. "He's not a particularly trusting person. I believe he trusts some of us to varying degrees, some of us not at all. The Order as a whole he wants to escape from."

_See, Lenalee? I can speak the pretty just fine. Masks are pretty damn easy t'hide behind._

A wavering voice spoke behind him. Red turned to see Miranda say, "M-maybe if we _talk_ to him, he'll feel better and want to stay."

Red suppressed a snort. "I doubt it," he replied. "This isn't really his kind of place."

Miranda's eyebrows drew together a little. She looked down and began to fidget with her hands. Red didn't understand until an insight from 'Allen's' memories told him: _she was worried_. She even said as much when she spoke. "I'm just worried, Allen…you haven't been up for very long and you don't sound like yourself."

Red was stunned. How could anyone be worried about him? It didn't make sense. He was just this circus brat, who lived only to be beat up on and starved. Why would anyone worry about _him_?

_Wait, wait, wait. Don't get too full of yerself, ya damn idiot. She's not worried about me; she's worrying her fool head over 'Allen'. Dumbass. I shouldn't forget that I'm stuck in my mask._

"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck and smiling again. "His fatalistic attitude must have gotten to me."

"Oh, I see," Miranda said, nodding now that he fit in with the 'Allen' in her head.

Chaoji stepped forward. Hostility crackled like electricity across his shoulders. "Since when did you become such an expert on this Red? You sound like you know every little detail about the guy."

Red responded with the first thing that popped into his head. "Ah, that's because I knew him before I came here. We both lived at the same circus."

"Was he so standoffish then?" Lavi asked dryly.

Red sincerely wished that he could glare at the redhead without breaking the 'Allen' mask. Instead he laughed a laugh that faded into a sigh and said, "About the same, really. We were the only kids so we became good friends after a while." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kanda shift a little uncomfortably. _Wonder what the hell that's about._ "He just wasn't able to get out until years after I did."

"Get out?" Lenalee echoed.

In a quiet voice, the boy said, "He got left behind."

Before Lenalee could ask what that meant, Kanda interrupted. "Can we get to the point? I was dragged here to see him, not to hear about his childhood."

"I'm afraid that won't happen today," Komui told him. "You probably won't meet him unless it's on his terms."

"Then I'll go. I didn't want to be here in the first place." With that, Kanda swept out of the room, high ponytail swinging behind him.

_What bee is living in his bonnet? _Red wondered. This thought, of course, produced the ridiculous image of Kanda wearing a baby pink bonnet. Red's suppressed snicker turned into a yawn.

_And why the hell am I so goddamn tired?!_

Lenalee and Miranda glanced at him with twin expressions: _worry_. In Miranda's case, it irked him because the worry was misplaced. A part of him wanted to shout at them all, _I'm not your damn Allen Walker! Stop trying ta turn me inta him!_ but that would likely end up in him rotting in a dungeon or something, and to hell would go his plans for escape.

But as for Lenalee…it bewildered him. She _knew_ he was not 'Allen', that he was Red. So why the hell should she care?

It bothered him.

The girl in question stepped forward, a hand out, reaching for his arm. He twisted away just enough that she would not touch him. The hand dropped. "Are you okay?"

"Just tired, that's all."

"You aren't looking so good," Lavi said.

Krory said, "We can always ask you about Red later."

"Aw!" Timothy whined. "But I'm really curious!"

"Do I really look that bad?" Red asked. Sure, he felt a little sweaty and hot and had a headache pounding a tattoo on the inside of his skull, but it wasn't a big deal. He'd been made to work when he had been half his height and felt twice as bad.

"As Miranda said, you've only just gotten up. We've probably pushed you too much," Komui said. "You should go get some rest."

"I'm fine," Red lied. He hadn't felt well since they had gone to get lunch, but it wasn't like he couldn't function.

Or so he told himself, even as he stumbled and pitched forward.

"Allen!"

And even though he was on his hands and knees, he muttered, "I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine."

It had become his mantra when he was a kid. Whenever he felt too sick, too cold, too hungry, too tired, he would repeat the two words over and over until he believed them.

"I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine."

He rolled back so he was squatting on the balls of his feet. Multiple hands reached out to help him, but he waved them off.

_Don't touch me._

"I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fiiiiiiiiine…"

The last words trailed off as he stood and promptly fell into black.


	7. Those in the Know

**A/N:** Alright, crazy early update! I was sick all weekend, so I didn't have anything better to do. **  
**

NOTE: this chapter is set up a bit differently from the rest; it's an interlude of sorts. It alternates between perspectives (of Lenalee and Lavi) and dreams that Red is having. I wanted to tie in the other main characters more.

Not exactly sure where the story will go next; any suggestions?

I don't own DGM though I do own what I've written. It would be wonderful if I got more reviews (I probably should have said this before, but the response I have gotten has made me overwhelmingly happy). Enjoy!

* * *

_Lenalee_

It was a shock. A part of my world fell out from under my feet, and yet he was sitting there, _right in front of me_. It's hard to describe what it's like to have your greatest fear begin to happen. And Allen, Allen, he…

I'm not really sure when it happened, but at some point he became one of the greatest pillars of my world. When I close my eyes and think of the world, I see him – not as large as my brother, but painfully close. Him and all the others.

When he woke up, I expected him to smile. It's what he always does, even though I know he's hiding something. He knows that I know too, but he smiles anyway in an attempt to make everyone else feel better. And it does – for me, at least. Even though it's false comfort, it saves me. I'm always close to the edge of hysteria, but it is things like this that help me hold myself together.

I expected a smile, but when he woke he was angry. He was defensive, rough, and…_afraid_. I didn't understand at first. I thought maybe he was disoriented from being unconscious for three whole days. Perhaps he still thought he was in the thick of battle.

"I'm sure as hell not your Allen Walker."

And that's when part of my world crumbled. My head was whirling – how could it not be Allen? And I remembered when the Inspector called all of us exorcists together to tell us that Allen was the host for a Noah. The Fourteenth. That's when I first felt the ground under my feet shake. I wanted to deny it, please, please, no, not yet. I didn't – I _don't_ want to lose him to the Fourteenth yet.

Even as he is right now.

Brother explained his theory to me and Lavi right after he left the infirmary last night: 'Red' is Allen's original personality. There's not much, but Timcanpy has a few records of Allen as a child and in those he was very different: rude, belligerent, unsmiling. There was a certain rawness to him that was polished over by the beginning his apprenticeship with Cross. There are gaps in the records so we aren't completely sure what happened, although from what Allen told me, this was when his adoptive father died and Cross took him in. That may be when he began to mask himself with smiles.

The smiling persona 'Allen Walker' became a second personality, which eventually became his main personality. After the last battle with the akuma, Allen reverted back to being 'Red'.

I'm not even sure what to call him anymore. I guess since he calls himself 'Red', I should go along with it.

It's not that I _dislike_ Red, but it's…hard. I look at him and I see Allen, but when he speaks or moves, I know he isn't Allen. There was an honesty in him when he first woke up that I've rarely seen in Allen, and already Red is trying to hide himself behind a mask. Sure, I've helped him with it, but it was his decision.

Red's really not the easiest person to get along with. He's constantly pushing us away, even though he seems to have all the memories from when Allen was the main personality. Shouldn't he trust us? I want him to trust me. I can tell that he, too, is kind. He says that it would be better if Allen were back because Allen is "better" than him. I want Allen back, but how can someone judge their worth as so little?

I feel…I don't know. I'm confused.

Is it wrong to want Allen back but still want to become friends with Red?

* * *

_He couldn't remember having a name. Not a real one anyway, not that he knew of. He doubted that anyone had ever christened him anything – having a malformed arm in the Devil's color had caused his parents to toss him in the garbage soon after birth. At least, that's what he assumed. He kind of hoped that they had sold him instead; that would mean that he was actually worth something._

_The ringmaster had said that the boy had been sold, but the ringmaster often lied. And even if he hadn't been lying, the man was often drunk. The boy doubted the man, even though he had no proof otherwise. And even though it was his bitter hope, he still couldn't let himself believe the ringmaster's words._

_But it wasn't as if he could remember life before the circus. The circus was everything for him, no matter how much he wished it wasn't. The circus had given him little, but what it had given was everything he had. It was the circus that had given him a name of convenience:_

_Red._

_He didn't much like the name. As long as he could fool himself into thinking that it was about his rusty-colored hair, then it was bearable. But he knew it wasn't._

_Nah, the name referred to his arm. It was the bane of his existence: it caused others to fear and hate him, and he couldn't even get it to move properly._

_Sometimes he contemplated cutting it off._

_Course, he never did. It worked well enough to prop stuff up on. Plus, he'd probably die from the blood loss. _

_In his darker moments, Red wondered if that might happen anyway. The red of his body was not just the hair and arm: the red-and-yellow-blue-black-purple of bruises, the red-white lines of scratches and scrapes, the red-brown of crusted blood and dirt on his clothes and face. And sometimes, if he had to stay up through the night avoiding Cosimo or completing a task, his eyes would become bloodshot._

_Red._

_He had grown to hate the color. It was pain, coppery-bright against his tongue and sharp._

_He much preferred the creamy white of the children who came to watch the shows. Sometimes he sat and watched them as they laughed with rosy cheeks at the clowns and gasped wholeheartedly at the acrobats. He tried to imagine what it would be like to have such pale skin. A great part of him craved it, that life._

_Another part of him feared it. To be so pale was to be colorless. All he knew was to be Red._

_He would lose himself otherwise._

* * *

_Lavi _

What a brat. Seriously. If Gramps were here he would yell at me and probably whap me upside the head for losing my impartiality. Sorry Gramps, but I'm pretty irritated.

The Allen I thought I knew is a good kid. I never would've expected that he had a side like this. Even worse, I can't believe Komui didn't show us the records of Allen as a kid. Or did he show you and you never told me?

Whoa, whoa, whoa. I need to get out of this frame of mind. This Red thing is really screwing me up. Now I'm even talking to Gramps in my head. When he's back from whatever-the-hell-it-is he is doing, I'll be relieved. He'll set me straight, even if it means knocking out some of my brain cells.

Though maybe Gramps'll be semi-lenient when he learns that I cross-referenced all our records on the Noah to rule out the possibility of Red being the Fourteenth. According to my check, he shouldn't be. His personality doesn't fit with any of the records of the Fourteenth, nor does Allen seem to be undergoing the transformation process.

But, wow. Red really gets on my nerves. I forget and try to treat him like Allen (which I really shouldn't do. Come on, Bookman Apprentice, what about the memory you boast about?) and then he'll be this snarky ass that even puts Yu to shame. And I thought it couldn't be done. Yu never actually irritates me (I irritate him instead), but Red _really _pisses me off sometimes. Like the thing about meal tickets? Or hurting Johnny? What the hell goes on inside his head?!

And then he'll say something completely disarming. The thing about happiness not meaning anything is the first thing I can think of. That and being beaten as a kid. And that thing about some guy being dead…I was talking about apologizing to Lenalee and Johnny right before he said that, but I don't think he was listening to me at that point. And I'm pretty sure he didn't think Johnny was dead, though Johnny's the only guy that had been mentioned.

Jeez. It's pretty screwed up. Even though I think I've learned more about Allen's past in the last day and a half than ever before, the kid always has some kinda mystery surrounding him.

Maybe it's the Bookman in me. Even though the kid can drive me insane, I want – I _need_ to understand. It's all I can do for now.

* * *

_Red opened his eyes and wondered where the hell he was. It was the natural response to being chained up to an uncomfortable stone chair in a place he didn't recognize. He turned his head wildly, taking in his surroundings. The sky was pitch black, the ground and spindly trees were white. It was snowing, but he couldn't tell if the snow was cold or not – he was always cold anyway._

_But without any clouds in the sky, how could it be snowing?_

_The scenery continued to bug him until he realized that it was a dream._

"_A dream," he muttered. "Okay, well, this is a crappy-ass dream. Is something gonna happen?" With a rising note of panic in his voice, he shouted, "I'm done with this! Is someone gonna untie me? I WANT OUT!"_

"_Calm down, 'Allen'. Why are you sitting around screaming at the empty air?" A low voice asked._

_Red scanned the scenery, but he couldn't see anyone._

"_I'd stop screaming if I wasn't chained to a damn chair! Where are you anyway?"_

_With a chuckle, Red's shadow coalesced and grew into the figure of a man in a large white overcoat. He wasn't completely corporeal but Red got the distinct impression that the shadow-figure was grinning at him. Red also recognized him as the shadow that curled around his shoulders in his reflections, in the mirrors, in every bit of shiny glass._

"_I am the Fourteenth," the figure said. "And you are 'Allen'."_

"_No, I'm not," the boy grumbled. "If I'm anyone, I'm Red."_

_The Fourteenth cocked his head. "But in order to stay true to the chains binding you, you're hiding behind a mask of 'Allen'. As a child, you hid under a mask of distance, which is the mask you wear under your mask of 'Allen'. And the mask of 'Allen' is really as mask of 'Mana'."_

"_Yeah? Yer point?"_

"_Don't try to hide behind a mask here. Whenever you get your masks ripped away from you, you immediately create a new one. Now, isn't that strange?"_

"_Stop yer babbling and tell me: what do ya mean?"_

"_As I said, stop trying to hide behind a mask. Even your speech – you'd rather speak properly, wouldn't you? Mana got you into the habit of pronouncing things properly even if he couldn't get you to be particularly polite. At this point, it's easier for you speak as you learnt to unless you are stressed. But that crude way of talking – that fits in with your 'Red' mask. Who are you really?"_

"_I dunno what yer talking 'bout." Red turned his head to the side childishly. The Fourteenth sighed and Red glared at him. "What are ya on 'bout anyway? Aren't ya hiding behind a mask too? Ya won't even show me yer real face!"_

_That miserable low chuckle again. The shadow fell away to reveal a young, dark-haired man. Red found the face vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place it. "Fine, I'll take my mask off as well. Allow me to reintroduce myself. I am Nea Walker, the Noah of Destruction."_

"_Walker…Mana's brother, right?"_

_Nea smiled. "Yes, that is correct. Now, back to what we were talking about. I need you to find yourself. How many more times will you let yourself hide behind a mask? Or worse, as you are now, hiding behind multiple masks?"_

_Red stared at him, suspicious. "What's the point of that? I thought ya were gonna push me out anyway."_

"_Do you want that to happen?"_

"_Hell no! But I wanna know why. What's the point?"_

_Nea's smile dropped as he grew more serious. "Because the more you hollow yourself out by hiding behind your masks, the more of you will be swallowed by me." He smiled again. "I don't know about you, but I think my brother would scold me if you disappeared completely."_

_Red wasn't sure about that. At this point, he wasn't sure how much Mana had really loved him. _

"_That makes no sense, dumbass. Don't ya need me outta the picture to do whatever the hell it is ya wanted ta do?"_

_Nea's smile widened into a grin that shouldn't have fit on his face. "Who knows?" The grin continued to grow until it was larger than the Millennium Earl's. "You are my nephew, after all." The grin grew until it opened and swallowed the world._

* * *

Red woke, panting and sweating. He sat up and curled his legs into his chest. He shook for a long while.

He tried to focus on the sound of his breath and calm himself. _Where am I? _ A snore – he glanced at Lavi, asleep in the next bed over. Ah, so he was in the infirmary.

The last thing he remembered was falling to his knees in Komui's office, surrounded by concern. _They must've carried me here. _He rubbed a pale hand over his left arm. _Disgusting_.

Red lay back down, closed his eyes and waited for sleep.

He would be waiting for a long time.


	8. Uneasy Relations

**A/N:** I love all the people who randomly favorite months after I've written any updates. It makes me wonder: how did you even find this?**  
**

Some of my lateness is that I am somewhat stuck on where I want this story to go. Input would be helpful, though I might not necessarily follow it to the letter. Thanks for sticking with me!

I think I've put up enough disclaimers at this point. Everyone gets the idea, right?

* * *

"How long are you going to be gone?"

"Oh, it's only for three days, we think. It'll take about a day to get out there. Komui said that the finders were reporting an unusually high number of akuma in this one area, but none of them were above level two."

"Are you sure it's going to be fine, Miranda? I mean, they're only sending you, Timothy and Krory. You're more of a support type – don't you think it'll be better if someone else can go with you?"

"Lenalee, I'm sure it'll be alright." Nervous laughter. "You'll scare me, talking like that. Nobody else can go right now. I mean, your brother wants you here and both Lavi and Allen are still injured." Miranda smiled apologetically at the two boys. Red felt a flash of irritation. Sure, he had passed out the day before, but he was still fine. It wasn't like he was some kind of goddamn cripple. "Everyone else is busy."

"Will you be traveling by Ark?" Lavi asked.

"No. I don't think there is a gate set up there, but it isn't far."

"Miranda! Come on, let's go!" Timothy's high voice called.

"I'll be right there!" she called back. Miranda turned back to her friends, bowed, and said, "Wish me luck!"

_Will ya be needing it?_ It was a good question, but Red just smiled and nodded. "Sure. See you soon, Miranda."

* * *

The trio had some free time. With nothing else to do, they wandered aimlessly about the halls of the Order.

As they walked, Red caught a glimpse of his reflection in the windows and shuddered. He didn't usually remember his dreams, but last night's had really stuck with him. It's not like he didn't _know_ that the figure was the shadow of the Fourteenth looming over him, but never before had it struck him quite so much. It was as if every time he saw it, something inside him corroded, crumbled.

He shuddered again, more violently this time.

"Red? Are you alright?"

Fear sparked anger and he glared sidelong at Lenalee. _As if y'actually are worrying! Ya can't really be worrying. So what are ya trying ta pull? _

"If ya could stop yerself from worrying or whatever the hell _this_ is, then I'd be _great_!" Red snarled.

"Oi, don't get yourself caught up in a frenzy," Lavi said lazily. He had one hand behind his head and very much looked like he wanted to replicate the position with his other hand, which was still in its sling. "You might work yourself into a heart attack, beansprout."

Red shifted his glare to Lavi. "Not gonna happen, dumbass. Why do ya call me that anyway?"

"Beansprout?"

"Yeah."

Lavi shrugged and winced, having jostled his bad arm. "I'm in the habit of it? Me an' Yu call Allen that all the time. Just carries over, I guess."

"Then why do ya call _him _that?"

The redhead grinned. "Well, you're just this itty bitty little beansprout, aren't you? Plus, it's absolutely hilarious to watch Allen's face turn as red as a tomato."

Red snorted derisively even as his jaw clenched. _I don't like that 'Allen' has so much color. I thought…I thought he was colorless, nothing. And now he's so damn vibrant and I don't know what the hell I should do about it. Dammit all._

_Even worse, now I'm the one who's stuck fading!_

Lavi leaned forward, trying to get a better view of Red's eyes. To the latter's irritation, it _was_ true that Lavi had to stoop quite a bit. "What?"

"Allen had a black side. Do you? Or are you too snarly to have a black side?"

"Get away from me," Red hissed. _Am I yer bloody experiment?_

Lavi didn't move. "What happens if I provoke you?"

Lenalee grabbed Lavi's arm and dragged him away from Red. "Oh, leave him alone. Red's still pretty tired. I don't know why you've been so insistent on poking at him, Lavi."

"As I said before, stop yer worrying 'bout me! It's damn annoying!"

"I never thought I'd see the day where the beansprout would drop his polite mask," a new voice said behind them. Red whirled to see Kanda. A smirk twisted the swordsman's lips.

"What would ya know 'bout masks?" Red retorted. Since Kanda had already seen through him, he thought he might as well leave off pretending for now. _Great_, a_nother dumbass who likes the word 'beansprout'._

"It's what pissed me off about him from day one." Kanda said. He squinted at him for a moment as if trying to see something far away. "But you aren't him, are you?"

"No, I'm not."

Kanda's hand dropped to the hilt of his sword (_Mugen_, Red remembered after a moment). "The Fourteenth?"

"If I were him, would I be standing around chatting with ya?" Red replied.

"And would we be chatting with _him_ if he were?" Lavi broke in. "Well, maybe I would for Bookman and everything, but I don't think Komui would let you talk to him." This last was directed to Lenalee. She bit her lip and shook her head.

"Who the hell are you then?" Kanda asked. His hand had not yet strayed from Mugen's hilt.

Red sneered. "Come on, can't ya guess?"

Kanda narrowed his eyes again. "You're Red, aren't you?"

Red clapped. "Good job! Nice to see that y'aren't as stupid as ya look. Pretty boy has a brain after all."

Kanda's knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on Mugen. "Is it hard to be named Red when you're just a little white-haired brat? Let me slice you open and I can dye it for you."

"How kind," Red responded, struggling to keep a grin off his face. _See, this person makes sense!_ "But," he continued. "I think a much more exciting look would be for you to shave your head. Hand me your sword and I'll fix it for you. Might lop off an ear or two, though."

With a roar, Kanda unsheathed his sword and lunged forward. Red danced back. "Whoops, gotta be careful."

He dodged another sweep of the blade and threw a punch. He missed Kanda by an inch, who kicked at him, trying to break his footing. Red, already a pro at dodging as a kid, was further aided by 'Allen's' strength and agility. He began to laugh he jumped, rolled, kicked, and punched. Kanda grew increasingly infuriated.

"Kanda! Red! Stop it!"

The two fighters paid no heed to Lenalee and Lavi's shouts.

The fight was brought up short by Lavi catching Red by the waist and hoisting him off the ground. Lenalee jumped in front of Kanda, arms outstretched. Kanda stopped mid-lunge, made an annoyed "tch" sound with his tongue, and sheathed his sword.

"Let me go!" Red snarled, struggling and kicking.

_He remembered being lifted up, losing the stability of the ground beneath his feet. The arms grabbing him were cold. He struggled, but he was too small and weak to break free. __The bitter stench of beer rolled off the man's breath. _The man's footsteps were shaky and uneven, but unerring in moving towards their destination: the river.

_Crap, was Cosimo going to drown him?_

_A part of him wondered why Cosimo wanted to get rid of his toy, his punching bag, so easily._

_Most of him panicked and he did the only thing he could think of._

_He bit down._

Red was released and he stumbled forward a few steps before regaining his balance. He turned to see Lavi looking scandalized. "He bit me!" the redhead cried, rubbing his hand. "Red, you actually bit me!"

Red spat on the ground. "Yeah, and it worked, didn't it?"

"What?"

"Ya let go."

Lenalee inspected Lavi's hand. "Oh, Lavi, this isn't that bad." She turned around and stared at Red, her eyebrows drawn together. It was as if she was comparing him to something (or someone) and was finding him lacking. He scowled back.

"You're all idiots," Kanda growled. He stalked over to Red to glare down at him. "But there is something disgusting about liars like you, and you lie even more than 'he' did." He turned, ponytail whipping through the air, and left.

Red stared after the other exorcist's retreating back.

"What the hell was that?" Lavi wondered aloud.

"Red, are you alright? You haven't healed yet," Lenalee asked, sounding worried.

He was so _sick _of people acting like they were worried. He said so.

"What? You think we're _acting_?"

"Course. People like ya don't _get_ worried 'bout people like me. Just doesn't happen." After a moment of shocked silence, Red added thoughtfully, "Well, ya could be worried 'bout 'Allen' and that'd make sense, but I'm still not him, so ya should only worry 'bout the body. It's fine, by the way. The body, I mean."

Lavi stared at him with something akin to horror in his expression. "H-hey, Red, we don't think that way."

"Sure ya don't."

Lenalee seemed to come to some kind of decision. She stepped forward and grasped Red's hand – his _Innocence_ hand. "We care about you, you and Allen both. We want to understand, that's all. It's just – you haven't really made it easy."

Red didn't really hear her. He stared at his hand clasped in hers. Thoughts crashed in his head: _I never knew a hand could be this warm _and _even Mana tried ta hide my arm away_ and _this can't be right_ and _disgusting _and _when the hell did the world decide ta stand on its head?_

"Red? Are you okay?"

Startled gray eyes flicked up. "I…" The eyes flicked down to their hands again. "Dammit!" He tore his hand away.

"Red, are you – "

"No, dammit! Not around you people!"

"'You people'?" Lavi echoed. "Since when did you pronounce – no, never mind. Look, we want you to trust us. Is there any way we can help make that happen?"

Red's lip curled, then broke into a disbelieving grin. "Y-ya really think I'm gonna trust ya? Ever?" He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. He continued, "I'll give ya a bit of honesty. The biggest difference between me and 'Allen' is that he'd trust ya – I won't. The furthest I trust ya is not ta try something asinine, like drown me in my sleep or knife me or something. That's about it."

"But…don't you have Allen's memories? Shouldn't they show that you can trust us?" Lenalee asked.

"I'm not him," Red replied. _I don't understand why they insist on trusting and worrying. Don't they know that those are stupid things?_

"We know you aren't, but – "

"I'm not him," Red repeated._ Dammit, I'm tired of this crap. I'm so damn _sick_ of this._ He turned on his heel and walked away, down the hall.

"Red!"

He didn't look back. He could hear Lavi's voice behind him, saying, "Lenalee, let's leave it for now. Let's just leave him alone."

* * *

He hadn't paid attention to where he was walking, so he knew he was probably lost. He couldn't bring himself to care. _It's not like I'm trying to get anywhere right now. _He was in a room unfamiliar to even his 'Allen' memories. One wall was almost completely made up of windows overlooking a small interior courtyard. Some of the windows were cracked; a draft blew through the room.

Red sat and drew his knees in to his chest. He could see shadows in every pane of glass. They never formed a full picture: many sported leering grins, glimpses of staring eyes, shadowy hands, a necktie mirroring the one Red wore.

He turned his face down so that his knees pressed into his forehead. "Don't wanna deal with this right now," he mumbled. "At least when I was a kid, things made _sense_."

Red fought the urge to shiver in the draft. It took a moment, but then he noticed that some of the draft was blowing across his face in pulses and he could hear the flitting of wings. He opened his eyes to see Timcanpy hovering over him.

"Bugger off!" he snarled, waving an arm towards the golem. Timcanpy fluttered back a few inches, then came forward again. "Go away!"

Timcanpy raised a stubby arm and slapped him on the cheek. "Ow! What the hell was that for?"

Red wasn't sure how he could read the expressions of a faceless golem, but he could have sworn that Timcanpy was giving him a look that said '_You're running away'_.

"Am not!"

'_Are too.'_

Red turned his head away mulishly. "I'm not about ta get int'a fight 'bout 'are too' and 'are not' with a golem! Besides," he said turning back to Timcanpy. "This place is completely insane. Sooner I get outta here, the better."

'_You didn't run away from the circus.'_

At this point Red wondered if he was reading too much from Timcanpy's expression (or lack thereof). But damn him if he lost a fight. He said, "And look at where _that_ got me. Beat up, starving, nearly dead a dozen times over."

'_But you met Mana, didn't you?'_

That brought Red up short. He opened his mouth but couldn't think of any good arguments. _Damn me then. _After a long moment, he dropped his head on his knees again. "Fine, I'll stick it out," he muttered.

Timcanpy perched on his head.

"Idiot."


End file.
